Scars
by bookworm26
Summary: I tear my heart open. I sew myself shut. My weakness is that I care too much. HC.


Title: Scars (1/1)

Rating: PG-13

Summary: I tear my heart open. I sew myself shut. My weakness is that I care too much. H/C.

Word count: 2025

Note: This was a piece of work. This is my first major try at angst. I hope it does the song justice as a H/C fic. Please let me know how I went :) I had a slight disagreement with my stupid laptop, so I had to type this up on a different computer. If there are any mistakes you notice, please let me know :)

Disclaimer: Don't own.

Scar: Any mark, damage or lasting effect resulting from past injury, whether physical or emotional.

This is how it starts.

_Figures you'd stall and refuse to deal with the issue. Problem is, the world doesn't go away just because you want it to._

Gregory House secluded himself. That's where he was most comfortable, in his own little sanctuary of misery. He had changed. The infarction had changed him. Vicodin had changed him. She has changed him. As much as he wouldn't admit it, he realised this. It was why he sunk further. He was quite content knowing that although he was damaged, he was able to function. His scars were more visible than others. Yet his were the most difficult to attempt to understand. He liked to play people. It kept him sane. He was facinated with figuring out people like a complex puzzle. The deeper the damage, the more it intrigued him. It was why he hired her.

_Gorgeous women do not go to medical school. Unless they are as damaged as they are beautiful._

Allison Cameron had never had a particularly easy life. Growing up, she had always been assumed the 'looks' and nobody ever really appreciated her determination to be something other than what people expected her to be. Her sheer determination had succeeded her all the way to medical school, despite people's doubts. Then it all fell apart. Marrying so young had never been an option for her. Yet she did. Not just for herself. And after 6 months, she was alone. Scarred. Damaged. She came to Princeton Plainsboro teaching hospital to get away. But she could never get away from her past. He reminded her of that. Yet she fell. Again.

He played her. Pushed her to her limits. It was what he did. What he didn't out on was her pushing back.

House stood on the rooftop of Princeton Plainsboro teaching hospital, staring out into the distant horizon. He hadn't been up here in awhile. It was usually only saved for special occasions. Time's for brooding. Loosing a patient was one of those times.

House sighed roughly and scratched his forehead. He never did like to see people after something like this happened. People die, he said it enough, yet when he had fought hard to save the 15 year old girls life he had become involved. More than he had liked.

The door to the rooftop creaked open and House looked back, expecting to see Wilson here to say some words he thought may comfort him. What surprised him was Cameron's small form standing at the door staring at him.

"What are you doing here?" House asked, looking back over the roof.

"Wilson asked me to come find you," Cameron replied softly, walking over to the edge. "Are you ok?"

House scoffed. "Yeah. Why wouldn't I be? It's a right old treat when someone dies," He replied roughly.

Cameron looked taken aback and took a sharp breath at his tone. "I know you don't mean that," She said, staring out in the distance.

"You like to assume that a lot," House said, looking at her.

Cameron turned her head to face him. "You don't need to be a sadistic son of a bitch all the time, you know," She said, her voice hardening.

House rolled his eyes. "Is this the part where you tell me that you're here for me? A shoulder to lean on? No offence Cameron, but I really would of thought I had knocked a little bit of the naivety out of you by now."

"Fine. I'll leave you to contemplate your miserable life by yourself," Cameron said, staring him straight in the eyes, "I just thought..."

"Yeah, well you thought wrong," House cut her off, not looking at her.

Cameron stared at him for a moment before rolling her eyes and walking towards the door. The loud bang of the metal door slamming alerted House that she had left.

Staring straight ahead, House smirked. She still didn't get it. Didn't understand that he wasn't going to give in. Wasn't going to gush out his feelings in a swoop. Wasn't going to give in to the thoughts running through his head.

Cameron walked into her apartment, slamming the door behind her. She dropped her coat and bag on the couch and headed straight for the kitchen. For once in her life, she wanted to drown her sorrows in alcohol.

Reaching for a wine glass and picking up the bottle of Red, Cameron poured herself a glass and took a large sip. She walked back into the living room and sat down on the couch, placing her wine glass on the coffee table.

She was tired. Tired of House. Tired of trying to figure out what the hell she was supposed to do with the feelings that bubbled over when she was with him. She was disgusted with herself. Didn't understand why she was putting herself in a situation in which she would get hurt. She knew she would. It was inevitable. Yet she didn't attempt to deny what she knew she should of.

Her entire life she had always thought about others. It was never her opinion that had mattered. She had always been there for others and never really took care of her own feelings. She had experienced too much to take care of her own feelings. It was why she was the way she was. She still had pent up emotion running through her head and heart that she knew she couldn't release. Because if she did, she wouldn't be able to stop.

Sighing deeply, Cameron took another sip of wine, feeling it run down the back of her throat. Maybe if she got drunk enough, she would forget about the past couple of days they had had.

Loosing patients was terrible enough, without House being an ass about it. She knew he did care. He wouldn't of been up on the rood if he didn't. But seeing him like that, hearing him say those words so bluntly, had made Cameron feel even worse than she already did.

He had been pushing her for long enough. She had held her own, slowly coming out and snarking right back at him. But she didn't have the energy anymore.

A loud rap at her door echoed through her apartment and Cameron turned around, startled. The pounding continued after a moment and Cameron sighed, leaning back on the couch. She wasn't going to answer. She couldn't answer. She didn't wan't to deal with it. Not after today.

"Cameron, open up the door," House's voice sounded through, and Cameron rolled her eyes.

"I will find the spare key. I have a knack for that."

Cameron closed her eyes and sighed, very slowly getting up and walking over to the door. She opened it and saw House standing there, the spare key in his hand.

"See," He said, holding up the key, "told you."

Cameron reached over and snatched the key out of his hands and stuck it in her pocket. House stared at her and raised his eyebrows, his eyes finally landing on the wine glass in her hand.

"Hmm. Planning on getting drunk? That sounds completely like me and nothing like you," House said.

"Yeah well sometimes I decide to do things that aren't me," Cameron replied coldly, her hand firmly grasping the door handle.

"We need to talk," House said, staring into her apartment.

Cameron rolled her eyes and walked over to her kitchen, leaving House to enter her apartment and close the door behind him.

"What do you want?" Cameron asked, turning around at the counter and facing House who had appeared in her kitchen doorway.

"You're pissy," House replied, tapping his cane on the ground.

Cameron rolled her eyes. "And that makes a difference to you?"

"You're pissy about what I said," House said, ignoring her question.

"You say stuff like that all the time. Why would it start affecting me now?" Cameron replied, taking one last sip of wine and placing the empty glass on her counter.

House didn't reply, but just stared at her, his cane stopping and resting against his right leg.

Cameron sighed and redirected her gaze to the ground. "I'm tired, House. Of this. I'm tired of this verbal sparring game. I can't do this anymore."

House stared at her, his facial expression not shifting. "Tired of what, exactly? 'This' doesn't exactly qualify as a concept."

"Stop screwing with me. Stop redirecting the conversation back to me when you know exactly what I am talking about. You and me. Black and White. It's simple, yet you don't seem to even dignify it with a second glance," Cameron replied angrily, staring him straight in the eye.

House smirked. "Oh for fucks sake Cameron, stop trying to analyse me."

"Why not? It's all you do with everybody else. You ride people until they tell you what you want to know. You can give it but when it comes to you it's a completely different story. If it isn't the God damned case, then tell me what the hell are you doing here? I don't see you giving Chase or Foreman house calls whenever you piss them off," Cameron replied, her breathing heavy as she stared at him angrily.

House stared at her. Their gazes didn't waver as they stood in the middle of the kitchen, Cameron's hands on her hips.

Cameron was the first to break the gaze. When it was obvious House wasn't going to reply, she smirked and turned around to face the counter, tears welling in her eyes. She held them back, not wanting to break down now. Before she could even wipe her eyes, a hand grabbed Cameron's forearm and turned her around.

Before she could say anything, House pushed her up against the counter and pressed his lips on hers. Cameron gasped in pain as her back pressed firmly against the corner of the counter, but grabbed a handful of House's shirt and pressed back against him. House pushed his tongue in Cameron's mouth and it collided with hers as he kissed her, pinning her against the kitchen counter.

House broke away and Cameron swayed, staring up at him with wide eyes. She touched her swollen and sore lips as her breathing returned to normal.

"Stop trying to analyse me," House said softly, staring at her.

"Will you return the favour?" Cameron replied, still pinned against the counter.

House smirked. "I already know everything about you," He replied, brushing his stubbled cheek against hers.

Cameron felt it burn but held in a gasp. "So do I," She replied, breathing deeply as House kissed her neck roughly.

"Not everything," He replied, "You on the other hand are easy to figure out."

Cameron smirked as House looked at her. "You're easier to figure out than you think you are. You're scarred. You always will be."

House pressed his lips against Cameron's again. She pushed him back and into the living room.

He taunts her, teases her. Bends her til she breaks. And she eventually does. She cares more than she wants to. They can go days without talking to each other, he being too proud to admit his faults and she bottling up her emotions. She explodes. He takes it. He usually deserves it.

It's dysfunctional. It's certainly not normal. Or healthy. It won't last forever. Both know that. They are two completely different people attracted by the image of that. It will break them eventually. They are both damaged. Scarred. And they will always remind each other of that. That's how its ends. It's how it always will.

FIN


End file.
